Naked (29 page)

Leofric heaved a sigh. “Loyalty?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t owe Edmund any loyalty, Godiva. Are you forgetting what he did to your parents? What he nearly did to you?”

But we’d grown up together, side by side.
Bindweed and hollen
.

“Loyalty to the boy,” I said, “if not to the man.”

And grief.

Grief for the boy. If not for the man.

He’d come to us more damaged than I’d ever guessed.

Leofric sighed again. “I wouldn’t expect anything else of you.”

My hands untwisted the linen. “How can it be done?”

“I’ll think of something. My men will spread a tale. Much can be swallowed along with ale on a tavern bench.”

“No one must know Edmund was a
huscarl
.”

“It’s probably wise,” Leofric admitted. “They’re King Canute’s secret force, after all. There’s no point in angering him; it could cause trouble with the Danes. Trouble we don’t need.”

This was the earl speaking, the Saxon statesman. Who had won King Canute’s respect.

“And what happened on the ride…”

Flint-fire blazed across his face. “Edmund’s presence in Tomas the tanner’s house won’t be revealed. I can cover that, too, though he deserves a traitor’s shame.”

What had happened in Tomas the tanner’s house?

“You can thank your husband for that. Ask him what happened. He broke my arm along with my bow.”
Edmund had spat at me
.

I would never ask.

I would never know.

“Will Tomas stay quiet?” I wondered.

“Some men’s silence is easily bought. Tomas the tanner is one of them, I expect.”

Leofric wrapped a tendril of my hair around his finger. “It will be as you wish. No one will ever know.”

30

Boring a little auger-hole in fear,

Peep’d—

—Tennyson (1842):
Godiva

Wilbert and Walburgha were waiting in the hall. Wilbert appeared shy but Walburgha had her usual, bright expression.

“Wilbert! Walburgha!”

My heart wanted to burst with gratitude as I held out my hands. At my time of need they hadn’t forsaken me.

“How can I ever thank you for what you’ve done? I’m so grateful to all the townsfolk of Coventry.”

Walburgha came forward, beaming. “As if we would look upon you, Lady Godiva. Not you. Never.”

Tears smarted at her loyal words.

The people of Coventry.

My people. The right people.

They’d come at my bidding. To where Leofric and I stood by the dais, his wolfhounds beside us.

So I could hear what had happened.

So I could hear what was said in the town.

“But how did it come about? How did it happen that everyone went into their houses as I rode by?”

“Well, my lady,” Walburgha grew cozy as she embarked on her story. “We weren’t in the manor hall when you said you were going to do the ride through the main street, but we soon heard about it, didn’t we, Wilbert?”

Wilbert nodded. “We soon heard about it.”

“Yes, we heard about it,” she carried on as if Wilbert hadn’t spoken, “and we said: ‘What’s this? Our Lady Godiva to do the penitent’s ride? That can’t be. As if she’s ever done anything wrong in her life to do a penitent’s ride!’”

“Then we found out why you were doing it, my lady,” Wilbert put in.

“That’s right,” Walburgha continued without seeming to take a breath. “We heard what you’d said in the hall. What Lord Leofric said. What a thing to ask of you! Not right, I said to myself, and to Wilbert, didn’t I, Wilbert. ‘Not right,’ I said.”

“That’s right, Walburgha, not right, you did say that.”

“Yes indeed. What a thing to ask a lady like you to do.” She cast Lord Leofric a reproachful stare. “To ride through the streets in your all for nothing at your husband’s bidding! Naked!”

So this was what would be said of my husband. When I was as much at fault. If only I had trusted Leofric instead of Edmund.

No! I refused to let my husband be maligned. I opened my mouth.

To reveal the naked truth.

Leofric was a hero. He’d saved my life.

His hand clamped on my arm. A shake of his head.

My mouth closed.

“So I said, didn’t I, Wilbert, get everyone in the town together quick.” Her color mottled, Walburgha went on. “We haven’t got much time. So we all got together in the tavern and I said: ‘we’re not having this.’”

“She did, she did,” Wilbert intoned.

Walburgha threw Lord Leofric another hostile glance. The wolfhound barked. She ignored it. “Don’t know what they do up in Mercia, but here in Coventry, in the Middle Lands, we don’t have Saxon ladies ride through the streets with no clothes on for all to see. Oh no. So then we decided not one of the townsfolk would watch you as you did ride.”

What they’d done still both humbled and amazed me.

“I never imagined you’d do that for me.”

“Well, my lady, what else could we do? Some said they would just stand on the street and try not to watch you, but I said, no, that wasn’t good enough. We had to go into our houses and shut the doors. If you were going to do the ride for us, it was the least we could do for you. We love you, my lady, as we loved your parents before you, Lord Radulf and Lady Morwen, may their souls rest in peace.”

Tears welled again at my parents’ names.

“And let’s not forget what you did for poor Wilbert on the battlefield. Would have had his throat cut by a Dane, wouldn’t you, Wilbert, if it wasn’t for the Lady Godiva?”

“Slit from ear to ear, I expect, if you hadn’t come along and fought that Dane, my lady. From ear to ear.”

“That’s right,” said Walburgha. “We know how much we owe you, my lady, and we’re not the only ones. There’s many others in the town who feel just the same. We all agreed on it. As it started to get near twelve o’clock, when you said you would ride, we all went inside our houses. Whole place closed up, tight as a drum. Heard your horse, as you went by though, didn’t we, Wilbert?”

Wilbert mumbled a reply.

“I said: ‘that’s Lady Godiva’s horse.’ We waited until well after the time you had gone, just in case, and then we all came out.”

“Thank you.”

“No need for thanks, no need at all. Couldn’t do naught else, could we?”

Tutting toward Leofric.

“It’s to our shame that a Coventry man did try to see you,” Wilbert said.

Instinctively, my hands flew to clutch my braid. Had the news got out? Had Leofric’s men done their work on the mead-bench?

“Who was it?” I managed to ask.

“Tomas the tanner,” Wilbert replied. “He swore he wouldn’t, along with the rest of us. But he looked out his window as you passed by. Of all the men of Coventry, he was the only one.”

I released my braid. Exhaled.

“To think of it, my lady!” Walburgha cried. “He tried to peep! That Tom! That peeping Tom! But he got what he deserved,” she added with relish.

“Peeping Tom? What happened?”

“It’s the strangest tale,” Leofric said. To my amazement I realized he’d been trying to hold back a smile during the telling of Walburgha’s story. There was the slight crease in his cheek I’d noticed before, as though a dimple of laughter had once lived there. “This man, Tomas tanner, was the only one not to keep to the vow your people of Coventry made.”

“The shame of it!” Walburgha interjected.

“He, too, went into his house, like the other townsfolk, I understand.” Leofric continued. “But he didn’t look away as you passed. Instead, he tried to look on upon you.”

“Oh! When I passed Tomas the tanner’s house, I had the oddest feeling that there was someone looking. I wasn’t sure.”

The crease in Leofric’s cheek disappeared as his hand went to his hilt. “He tried to see you from his window.”

Gently I placed my hand on his arm, saw his hammer fist uncurl.

“Sly, that Tom. But he got his comeuppance!” Walburgha spoke with great satisfaction.

Tomas the tanner had been in Edmund’s pay for some time, it had been revealed. Those feaberry eyes, always watching. Spying.

“Hand of God,” inserted Wilbert dolefully.

“Hand of God?” Bewildered now, I turned from one to the other.

“There’s more to tell,” Leofric said. “When Tomas tried to peep as you rode past, he was blinded.”

“Blinded!”

“Cursed, he was! Cursed!” exclaimed Walburgha.

“That’s right. He’s blind. Can’t see a thing,” Wilbert confirmed.

“A piece of sharp wood, I think, from a hole he made,” Leofric explained.

“Poor Tomas! Blind!” But it could have been worse for him. Edmund had no more use for Tomas the tanner, Leofric had said. Lying in his house, bleeding. At least he was alive.

“Poor Tomas? After what he did? How can you say that, my lady? You always were so good and kind, I suppose. But I don’t feel sorry for him.” Walburgha waggled her finger. “Not at all.”

“Some of the folk in the town are wondering if you are going to punish him for having tried to look upon you,” Wilbert put in.

“No, no!” I exclaimed. “God’s justice has been done. I won’t punish him more than an eye for an eye.”

Walburgha pursed her mouth and sucked noisily through her teeth. “Suppose that’s the right thing to do. Suppose so.”

“An eye for an eye, that’s what the Bible stories say, Lady Godiva.” A worried expression came over Wilbert’s face. “There’s something else we want to ask. The tax, Lord Leofric. Can you tell us? There are many in the town and the farms that are still worried about getting through the hungry month. The grain is running out. Is the tax still to be set at the same amount as Mercia’s? So much higher than ours here in the Middle Lands? “

“We’ll starve if it is!” Walburgha put in dramatically.

“There will be no one who starves in Coventry, as long as Lady Godiva lives,” Leofric said. “The tax is lifted. It will be as Lady Godiva promised.”

We had discussed it. But in the future, we would make our laws together, for the good of Mercia and the Middle Lands. Leofric and I stood together now. My lands were his lands. His lands were mine. I would care for Leofric’s people as I did for my own. Our wealth, our stores, would be shared. No child would starve in the Middle Lands. Or in Mercia.

“Is that for certain? The tax is no more?” Undaunted, Walburgha faced Leofric squarely, her hands on her hips, and her chin stuck out.

The crease deepened in his cheek. “We should have sent you into battle against Thurkill the Tall, Walburgha. You’re quite a weapon.”

I smiled. “You have Lord Leofric’s word and mine.”

Walburgha gave a nod, though she still looked suspicious.

Wilbert stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “There’s more, my lady. We believe this is yours.”

The ruby glistened cherry red in the sunlight.

“My ring! I thought it lost forever. Where did you get it, Wilbert?”

“From the man who stole it from you. Tomas the tanner.”

“Tomas?” He had been near me, I recalled, in the crush of townspeople in the hall. “It must have been at the
althing
.”

“It seems he picked it up,” Leofric said blandly.

His tone made me look at him sharply. Had Tomas the tanner had it? Or had Edmund?

“What will you do to punish Tomas?” Walburgha asked with relish. “Will you have him face the Saxon law for theft?”

By our law he would lose a limb.
No.
“This man has been already been avenged, by God.”

Once more Walburgha appeared disappointed. “Well he got what he deserved, I suppose. We told him not to look upon you. We’re proud of you in Coventry, my lady, and of what you did for us. We’ll be telling our children and our children’s children for many years to come.”

Leofric smiled. My heart leapt again as I slipped the ring onto my finger.

It would be fitted this time.

“Aye, we’ll always remember it.” Wilbert bowed. “Never will it be forgotten: Lady Godiva’s ride.”

*   *   *

Light glinted through the bower window. Dawn had come, rose gold on the rushes, gilding the walls, hallowing us where we lay.

Leofric chuckled. The rumble of his laugh was still new to me. I would hear it more, I vowed. See the dent deepen in his cheek. Laughter would cast out grief in our home. There would be feasting, singing, dancing. Family. Friends.

Hall-joy would reign once more.

“What is it, my lord?”

We had been awake all night. The languor that is better than sleep contented me as I nestled beside him.

“It’s what Wilbert said to us. I think he may be right. I doubt your naked ride for the people of Coventry will ever be forgotten. It will probably be spoken of in a thousand years.”

“In a thousand years? That isn’t possible.”

“Your fame will grow, as will mine of a different kind. You’ll be the heroine of the tale, as you deserve to be.” He stroked my hair. “I’ll be the villain, so ignoble, so cruel to his wife.”

“There’s still time,” I said, “For us to set the story straight.”

“It’s as it must be. The cloth is woven, not to be unraveled. For the sake of peace.”

“Perhaps the truth will come out one day.” Rolling over, I rested my chin on his chest and gazed up at him, at the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. The beard was gone now to reveal the face I loved. “Even if it takes a thousand years.”

Leofric smiled down at me. “Is that so, my Lady Godiva?”

“Truth is like love,” I said. “It always triumphs in the end.”

Six months later
Yuletide, 1023 AD

Epilogue

And built herself an everlasting name.

—Tennyson (1842):
Godiva

“How did you know, Aine?”

“I just knew, my lady.” She snapped off a sprig of wintergreen. “Now no more questions. You need to get plenty of rest.”

I sat in pale sunshine in the plant yard. I felt more in tune with the Yuletide season than ever before.

Here so many times I had sat dreaming, hoping, and wondering.

Leofric.

My mind roved to when I first met him, when he had ridden into Coventry alone on Wyrd, his black stallion.